I love my kids, I just hate parenting
Yesterday, in advance of Mom and Buried’s upcoming sprinkle, I wrote a list of things I want for baby number two.
Some of them are ridiculous, completely unattainable fantasies, but aside from the booze – and the vasectomy(!) – pretty much all of them were for the baby.
Now that that’s over with, today I’m focusing on what parents need.
My wife’s friends are throwing her a sprinkle, which is both the name of a smaller, not-your-first-kid baby shower and a word I will spend the rest of my life trying to avoid saying.
As one does when generous friends plan to ease the stress and expense of preparing for a major life-changing event, my wife has started a registry. I have not seen this registry, and I may never see it. I may even be fabricating the fact that she even started one. I haven’t been paying attention.
Regardless, I decided to write a baby item wish list of things I think we need for baby #2, some of which are obvious, some of which are outlandish, and a few of which don’t actually exist.
I’ve been a parent to an only child (single-child parent?) for five years now.
When I envisioned having kids, back in my salad days of youth and freedom, I always saw myself having at least two. I have siblings, and despite the occasional incident (like when one brother accidentally tore my hair up with an electric shoe shiner, or another brother accidentally almost cost me a finger with a pair of scissors), I enjoy having siblings. Ergo, I wanted my kids to have siblings. Case closed.
But life got in the way, circumstances demanded compromise, and for a while it seemed like Detective Munch would be it for us. As you probably know already, the times, they are a-changing.
This is my pledge not to change with them.
Among the many things on my mind as we prepare for the arrival of our second kid are my son’s feelings.
Welcoming a new baby to the family is going to be an adjustment for everyone, but the little boy who will suddenly be sharing a house, his toys, and his parents’ affection may have it hardest of all. No, my (eldest) son won’t be changing (many) diapers or getting up to feed his little brother (at least not all the time), but he’s not gonna be the only kid in town any more, and it won’t always be easy for him.
So I thought I’d take this opportunity, in the final stretch of calm before the storm, to reassure him.
I don’t really understand why some parents dress their tiny children as monsters for Halloween.
Aren’t they terrifying enough already?